


The Curtains Close On the Kiss

by insufficientemotionalfunds



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble, Episode Related, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Pure Unadulterated Fluff, fixed it, hunteri heroici
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 06:34:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insufficientemotionalfunds/pseuds/insufficientemotionalfunds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It feels like a natural progression… the events of the past few days—months, years even—leading them always inexorably to this point.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Curtains Close On the Kiss

Castiel settles comfortably into his chair and closes his eyes, allowing his head to tilt back as he falls into the swirls of music echoing serenely through Fred Jones’ subconscious. He allows himself to be pulled in, wrapping himself in melodies and harmonies—a shield, protection from the chasm of self-inflicted loss and pain he’s been teetering on the edge of since Dean had grit his jaw and turned for the door without a backward glance. 

He sits quietly, purposefully _not_ reaffirming that, yes, it is better this way; purposefully _not_ acknowledging that Dean is better off without him; purposefully _not_ screaming silently for the hunter to come back to him with every last iota of his grace. 

With this silent war weaving its persistent way in and out of the symphony piping continuously from Fred, Castiel doesn’t hear the determined footsteps making their way down the hallway until they’ve turned at the door with a squeak against the tile. Eyes snapping open, he tenses, one hand flashing out to the side ready to call his blade to hand as—

Dean strides single-mindedly across the room, green eyes catching Castiel’s and holding purposefully.

“Dean,” the angel begins, unsure, “Is something the matter?” The Winchesters should, by all rights, be halfway out of town by now, shaking the cares of one case off in preparation of the next. “What—?”

“Forgot somethin’,” Dean mutters simply, stalking up to Cas’ chair and looming over him. 

One large, calloused hand rises immediately to the back of the angel's head, warmth seeping into the base of his skull as Dean curls his fingers into dark hair and holds him in place. Castiel’s eyes drift closed of their own accord when the hunter swoops in and captures his lips with his own.

It feels like a natural progression… the events of the past few days—months, _years_ even _—_ leading them always inexorably to this point.

Dean sweeps into his mouth like he belongs there—and of course he does—teasing the angel into a swirling duel of tongues as easily as if they had been partaking of each other since that first night in a barn years and lifetimes ago. Cas traces trembling fingers up the seam of the hunter’s coat, trailing up until he finds the heartbeat thundering in Dean’s throat and cups it lightly, soothing the pulse with his thumb. 

An all-too-short eternity later, Dean draws slowly back, nipping softly at his bottom lip as he retreats. He hesitates, dropping a quick second kiss to the corner of Castiel’s mouth and gently bumping their noses together before he straightens back up to his full height. 

“I’ll text you when we call it a night, 'kay?” he says casually, as if this was completely normal, fingers dragging through the hair at the base of Cas’ neck as they fall away. 

“Okay,” Cas replies dumbly, staring up at him with awe-struck eyes.

“Just—” Dean licks his lips, rocking back on his heel in a moment of indecision before his hand rises once more, making for Castiel’s cheek this time and stroking down the length of his jaw tenderly. _“Call_ me, okay? If… if things get bad. I’ll be here before Sam can even finish closin' the car door.”

Cas swallows, a heady warmth buoying up from his chest and into his throat. “Okay.” 

A tiny grin quirks Dean’s lips and he steps back toward the door, flicking his arm up in farewell. “Talk to ya later, angel.” And then he's gone, footsteps retreating once more down the hall toward his waiting brother. 

Castiel smiles, settles comfortably into his chair and closes his eyes, allowing his head to tilt back as he falls into the swirls of music echoing serenely through  Fred Jones’ subconscious.

**Author's Note:**

> I spewed my feelings everywhere.  
> I've actually decided I don't really like posting writing stuff on Tumblr. I feel like unless you're a "famous blog" or buds with one your stuff gets overlooked and no one gives you feedback. It kinda sucks, yeah?


End file.
